


self-taught learner

by psycheDahlia



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Closeted Character, Coming In Pants, Hand Jobs, High School, M/M, Marijuana, Multi, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Not Underage, Smoking, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 17:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15824040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psycheDahlia/pseuds/psycheDahlia
Summary: Dennis tries to teach Mac how to pleasure a woman by demonstrating on Charlie.





	self-taught learner

**Author's Note:**

> title and the lyrics at the beginning and end of the fic all come from "self-taught learner" by lissy trullie
> 
> an unofficial fill for the following Always Sunny Rarepairs Two: Electric Boogaloo prompt: "Dennis tries to teach Mac how to pleasure a woman by providing a live demonstration on Charlie. Dennis gets REALLY detailed. Mac isn't sure most of these skills are applicable, but he's sure not gonna stop watching. After all, Charlie sure seems to like it..." It was my prompt and it didn't get filled but I really liked the idea, so I'm writing something for it myself!
> 
> also they're all 18, its briefly mentioned in the fic but yeah

_"You were my first kiss_  
_You were my first miss_  
_What we made was our own_  
_I went home and I told no one._  
_Are you watching me? Am I different, or am I the same?"_

//

 

Charlie’s whole body wants him to spit out the mouthful of $4 gas station vodka Dennis has managed to swipe, but he swallows it down instead and stifles the wince, cuz he can feel Dennis half-watching him, pulling a long drag off the skinny joint that Mac’s just handed him, and Charlie kind of hates that about Dennis. Y’know, the way he’s always just fucking _watching?_ Dennis kind of weirds him out that way. He moves too fast, sees too much. Every time Charlie fucks up, he knows Dennis knows, might not always say something at the time, but Charlie can feel Dennis looking, _watching_. Dennis’s eyes are like two red-hot lasers burning into the back of Charlie’s neck as Dennis catalogues all the dumb things Charlie does and says, filing them all away for later.

And Charlie’s just so used to being around Mac, who isn’t like that at all. Mac, who spills a little of the shitty vodka down his unshaven chin and can’t stop giggling at himself for long enough to get the bottle back to his lips. Mac’s so easy to be around. Sometimes if it’s just the two of them, Charlie doesn’t even bother running his thoughts back through his brain a second time to see if they’re weird or not before he sends them to his mouth. He just trusts Mac to get it.

This awful, shitty vodka is burning in his gut and he needs weed bad but the joint is burning away in Dennis’s fingers cuz Dennis got all distracted and lost staring at...well, he’s actually pretty sure Dennis is staring at Mac’s tongue lapping up all that vodka Mac spilled, dripping off his lips and down his chin, but Charlie’s kinda trained himself _not_ to notice shit like that.

Dennis finally hands the joint over and Charlie resists the urge to tell him off for holding onto it for so long cuz they’re still not quite on that level, still very new friends, still walking on eggshells at least on Charlie’s end. This is actually one of the first times they’ve all hung out, all three of them, outside of school. Charlie feels sort of this expectation that they’re gonna be chill with each other because they’re both chill with Mac but Charlie can’t just _not_ notice that Dennis acts like he thinks Charlie’s real weird and dumb, especially when they’re at school, and that makes Charlie kinda want to point out that Dennis didn’t seem to really hang out with anyone but his weird sister before he and Mac came along, so maybe he shouldn’t act like he’s so much better than him.

Or whatever. _Fuck._ Weren’t only girls supposed to have to deal with this frenemy bullshit? And where’s that fucking joint, anyway?

The cool glass of the vodka bottle brushes his knuckles and right, right, he just had the joint, he’s gotta drink before he gets it back. His stomach still hurts from the last swig he took and he doesn’t really want to drink any more until it settles but Dennis is doing that half-watching thing again and fuck it, he’s not gonna pussy out. He chugs like he’s trying to win a chugging contest, chugs right around that sharp churn of his gut and tries to convince himself he’s washing it down, tries to pretend like that sting, that burn, is _helping_. He swallows hard and fast and passes the bottle blindly, lets go before Mac’s ready for it.

“Fuck, Charlie!” Mac wails as a quarter-size puddle manages to pool before Mac gets the bottle back upright. “My mom’s gonna smell this shit if it soaks into my rug, man, fuck!”

Charlie feels like he should say something but he’s about to hurl even more vodka onto Mac’s floor if he doesn’t steady his spinning skull. He leans heavily against Mac’s closet door and breathes deep.

“Jesus, man, chill,” Dennis rolls his eyes. Charlie peeks one eye open to see if it’s aimed at him, but it’s not. “Here, just soak it up with these.” He gathers up a decent amount of maybe-clean, maybe-not shirts from the floor around him and tosses them in Mac’s general direction.

“What the fuck is that gonna help? Who do you think does my laundry, asshole?” Mac snaps, catching the pile midair and then throwing the shirts right back, one at a time, aimed at Dennis’s face. Dennis smacks them out of the air rather than catch them, passing the joint to Charlie to be able to use both hands.

“Where’d the lighter go?” Charlie asks. Mac tosses it at him without looking, it lands on his stomach.

“Then just let it dry, Mac! It’s not gonna smell once it dries!” Dennis insists. “It’s like a rum cake!”

“What the fuck is a rum cake?” Mac asks, letting the last shirt fall to the ground rather than throw it at Dennis.  
  
The smoke soothing the edge right off, easing away the nausea, Charlie sighs contentedly and offers, “Like pot brownies? You eat the rum cake, and it gets you…?”

“No, Charlie,” Dennis says. “Pretty much the opposite of that.”

“So like regular brownies?” Mac asks. “It’s just a cake?”

“No!” Dennis pauses. “Well, yes. You bake rum into a cake and it gets rid of all the alcohol. You can give it to children, it’s totally legal. Doesn’t even get them drunk.”

“Why the fuck would you put rum in a cake if it gets rid of all the alcohol and can’t even get you drunk?” Mac demands.

Dennis shrugs. “I dunno. Adults are fucking stupid. I guess when you can get alcohol whenever, you can afford to do stupid shit with it.”

“Hey, so if the rum was missing from the cake they wouldn’t even notice?” Charlie points out. “Hey, Dennis, next time your mom bakes a rum cake, maybe you can swipe the rum?” Anything would be better than this vodka. It tastes worse than paint thinner, and Charlie has the relevant experience to stand by that claim.

“Okay, first of all, if you think my mom just like, _bakes_ things, you have _greatly_ overestimated my mom’s interest in her maternal duties,” Dennis replies. “Second, I’m pretty sure they use it for some kind of... I dunno. It must do something to the cake, though, or they’d just make a fucking normal-ass cake. They’d know if it was gone.” He pauses to take a long swig of the vodka, unwincing, then gestures to the bottle. “And third, we don’t need to pull some complicated, like, rum-stealing, alcohol scheme. I yanked this with my mom standing three feet away from me. Nobody in my family notices shit.”

“I’m sure she _noticed_ , Dennis,” Mac says in a tone like he’s being soothing. “She probably just didn’t give a shit cuz she was drunk.”

“Yeah, cuz that’s better,” Dennis snorts. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get away from these people next year. I’m gonna go to college somewhere far away from here, get to live in a frat house. It’ll be this, all day, every day,” Dennis gestures around himself, “Only better booze, better weed, and cooler dudes to share it with.”

“Hey!” Mac protests. “I’m cool!”

“You’re, uh...alright,” Dennis says, the word getting caught up in his throat like he’s not quite sure what word it’s gonna be until it’s out.

“Am I cool?” Charlie asks, regretting saying it as soon as it’s out.

“You’re both _alright_ ,” Dennis affirms. He points the neck of the bottle at Mac. “Especially ever since Stacy Corvelli asked you out, Mac, that’s definitely a point in your favor.”

Mac chuckles awkwardly. “Fuck, I almost forgot that happened.”

Dennis makes a face like he’s just eaten a lemon. “What do you mean you _forgot_ that _happened?”_

“I said ‘almost’,” Mac weakly insists.

“He did!” Charlie says, a bit overly eager to defend his friend.

Dennis gives him a withering look. “I don’t give a fuck about the goddamn ‘almost’,” Dennis snaps, then turns his attention back to Mac. “I care that you could even for a second forget something like that. I hope that doesn’t mean you don’t have any sort of plan.”

“Plan?” Mac echoes.

“Plan! Yes! A plan!” Dennis cries. “If you don’t have a plan, if you don’t plan, if you go into this date without planning out a goddamn plan…”

“Plan,” Charlie says, then lolls his tongue out. “Bleh. It doesn’t even feel like a word anymore.”

“I really don’t like, y’know, like planning my life out too much?” Mac remarks. “I think things are better when I just go with the flow of things.”

“That’s bullshit, Mac,” Dennis snorts. “You just don’t like taking the time to plan things. People just don’t like taking their _time_.” For a second Charlie thinks Dennis is ramping up to one of his big grandiose speeches, but instead Dennis just kinda deflates. “Fuck, man. Whatever. Is there any more of that joint left?”

“No,” Charlie admits, “I finished it off.”

“Fuck,” Dennis mutters. “Where’d the vodka go?”

“ _You_ finished it off,” Mac replies, gesturing to the bottle in Dennis’s hand.

“Fuck!” Dennis cries, staring down at the empty bottle like it’s personally betrayed him. He lets it go, it rolls under Mac’s bed and he mutters one more time, “Fuck it. Alright, man. I guess we’re doing this.”

Dennis reaches up onto Mac’s desk and grabs a pad of paper. He has to flip through a couple pages of weird, scribbly drawings to get to a blank page. He stretches out to reach a red pen lying on the floor, covered in teeth marks clearly not from Poppins. “What do we know about this girl?”

“Stacy?” Mac echoes.

“No, your mom,” Dennis fires back. “Yes, Stacy! Obviously Stacy!”

“Well, she’s a girl,” Mac offers.

“We think,” Charlie pipes in. Dennis and Mac both shoot him a look; he puts up his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to cover all our bases here!”

“We’re gonna consider that one covered, bud,” Dennis remarks. He writes ‘GIRL’ down on the list. “Okay. She’s a girl. What else?”

“Uhhh... I think her hair’s brown,” Charlie remarks.

“Good one!” Mac grins.

Dennis hums. “Mmm, still kind of sticking to the basics here, but alright. Brown hair.” He writes it down. “Anything that might actually help you on your date?”

“She wears both pants and skirts,” Mac says. “Not at the same time, though. Or does she?”

“I dunno,” Charlie admits.

“Maybe both at the same time,” Mac shrugs. “Needs further research, I guess.”

Dennis sighs. “Alright, I don’t think you guys are getting it. We need stuff that’s actually gonna _help_ you on this date. Stuff that’s gonna be, y’know. Relevant?””

Rolling his eyes, Mac states, “I feel like she’s probably still gonna be a girl with hair and pants on our date, Dennis. Some stuff just doesn’t change.”

“She has boobs,” Charlie states. “Kinda smallish ones, but they’re on there.”

“That’s not gonna be relevant, Charlie,” Mac insists.

Dennis points the pen in Charlie’s direction. “No, Charlie, that was good. She’s got small boobs. So, Mac, practice your small boob maneuvers.”

Mac laughs. “My _what?”_

“Your small boob maneuvers,” Dennis repeats, like it’s a perfectly rational sentence to say. “Come on, Mac, don’t tell me you don’t already know this stuff. You can’t treat small boobs and big boobs the exact same way. It doesn’t work like that. Big boobs, you can really get in there, grab some handfuls, get rough. Try that same shit on small boobs and you’ll have the girl running for the hills. Small boobs need to be treated with delicate finesse.”

Mac looks about as lost as a dude can be; it’s a facial expression Dennis doesn’t seem to find encouraging. Dropping the pen onto the pad, Dennis throws up his hands. “Don’t tell me you don’t have _any_ boob maneuvers?”

“Well,” Mac fumbles. “I mean. I have _some_. I have a couple, yeah.”

Dennis folds his arms. “You’re lying to me, Mac.”

Mac’s eyes shift over to Charlie, who doesn’t really have a lifeline to throw him, so Mac’s forced to admit, “I mean, they might not really be ‘maneuvers’ so much as…”

“Alright, alright,” Dennis cuts him off. “Christ, Mac, you’re lucky to have me. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” Mac says sincerely.

Charlie is resisting the urge to roll his eyes when Dennis orders him, “Alright, get over here, Charlie. If I’m really fucking doing this, I’m gonna need a dummy.”

“I’m not a dummy,” Charlie protests.

Dennis sighs. “Not...not like a dumb kind of dummy, Charlie. Dummy like a mannequin.”

“I’m not a mannequin, either, though,” Charlie retorts.

“A model, then,” Dennis offers. “Yeah? Can you be my model?”

Charlie can’t really come up with a reason to protest that so he irritably walks on his knees over to where Dennis is sitting, and then sits down next to him, arms straight out to the sides. “Like this?”

“What?” Dennis raises his eyebrows. “No. Put your arms down. You don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”  Charlie lets his arms fall back to his sides.

“Now, Mac,” Dennis addresses, “be honest with me here. Have you ever _seen_ a boob?”

“Yes,” Mac says.

Dennis raises his eyebrows. “Really? In real life?”

“Yes!” Mac cries. “W-what’s with the ‘really’, man? What, like, I've lived to be eighteen years old and never…"

“Whose?” Dennis demands. “Whose boob?”

“Jenny Gildenhorn!” Mac says, puffing his chest up proudly. “Right, Charlie? My mom drove all three of us home from the eighth grade dance but then she just pulled into our driveway and I said…”

“Oh yeah!” Charle pipes in. “Yeah, yeah, you were like ‘Mom, you have to drive my friends home’ and she was like ‘why the fuck would you make me do that’ and ‘why are you even friends with these ugly fuckin’ kids…’”

“Okay, yes,” Mac agrees. “But eventually she made you walk home cuz you lived real close, but Jenny lived all the way on the other side of town, and the whole way there we made out and for a second she tugged her dress down, cuz it didn’t have the shoulder-y bits…”

“Straps,” Dennis supplies.

“Straps,” Mac repeats. “It didn’t have straps, so it went right down, and then I totally got to second base with her!”

“You touched them?” Dennis says in disbelief.

“For a second, yeah!” Mac replies

“For a second. Jesus Christ,” Dennis mutters, then at full volume,  “What did you do?”

“I dunno,” Mac shrugs. “Just squeezed ‘em real hard I guess.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dennis laughs. “Oh my god. That explains why it was only a second. Did she seem to enjoy that?”

“I dunno,” Mac shrugs. “It was kinda dark, so I was focusing really hard trying to see the boobs. I couldn’t really hear what she said.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dennis says for a third time, seizing with laughter.  “Alright, Mac, well. Uh, lesson one, I guess - don’t ‘just squeeze them really hard I guess.'”

“Wait,” Mac says, brow furrowing. “Am I gonna have to touch Stacy’s boobs?”

“‘Have to’?”  Dennis echoes.

“Want to,” Mac immediately insists.

“Are you going to want to touch Stacy’s boobs?” Dennis fills in the blanks for him. “I don’t know, Mac, do you…”

“You know what I mean, fuck,” Mac snaps. “Stop making me sound like an asshole. Am I gonna be touching her boobs? That’s what I’m trying to ask here.”

“You might,” Dennis replies. “I don’t know, Mac. It depends on how the rest of the date goes, but it seems a good a starting place as any. Alright, c’mere, Charlie.”

“Why?” Charlie asks, slow to figure it out but catching on enough now to be suspicious. “What are you gonna do to me? I don’t have boobs.”

Dennis waves him off. “It doesn’t matter,” he says, “I just need a roughly girl-shaped body to…”

“I’m not girl-shaped!” Charlie interjects.

“ _Person_ -shaped,” Dennis snaps back. “I just need a chest. Do you have a fucking chest, Charlie?”

Charlie wants so badly to tell him off, but Mac is watching them closely with this focused look in his eyes like he thinks this is all real important, and Charlie doesn’t know shit about boobs or whatever so if Dennis walks out Mac’s shit out of luck as far as advice goes.

So Charlie bites his tongue and tries to play nice as best he can. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t do anything weird.”

“Sit down in front of me,” Dennis orders. Charlie goes to sit on his heels, but Dennis corrects hims, “No, flat. There you go, right on the ground so Mac can see me too. Alright. Perfect.”

Charlie sits cross-legged, hears Dennis shifting behind him, resists the urge to turn around and see what Dennis is doing. “With a bigger-breasted girl,” Dennis starts trying to explain, his voice sounding higher up; Charlie realizes he’s sitting on his knees, gaining that extra couple of inches on him. The prick. Like he wasn’t tall enough already.

Dennis gestures a pair of large half-moons right in front of Charlie’s chest, moves his hands in a slow back and forth gesture, like he’s examining a heavy set of breasts protruding from Charlie’s chest. “You’ll really like feeling the weight of them. Plus she’s carrying them all the time, you know? She’ll like someone else doing that heavy lifting for once.”

Dennis’s hands settle at the bottom of the “breasts” and raise and lower slightly, repeatedly. “Bounce them in your palm a little. In fact, don’t be afraid to really jiggle them around a _lot._ ” He bounces his hands a lot more roughly, more quickly. “Big boobs can take it. Smaller boobs, though, they can’t take as much of a bashing. It’s alright, though. They’re really not as fun to play around with, not quite like that. Smaller boobs like Stacy’s, you’re gonna just get your hand _right_ over the nipple and kind of move up and down.” He draws his hands nearer to Charlie’s chest, his hands now level with Charlie’s own nipples, though not quite touching. Not very far from it, though. Charlie can almost feel the phantom sensations on his own chest. He swallows once, thickly.

“With smaller boobs, it’s all about that nipple. Squeeze it, pinch it, twist it, roll it, just _really_ put your heart into it,” Dennis instructs, demonstrating the finger placement for each move as he names them off, pinching and teasing the air a few inches away from Charlie’s chest. Charlie tries to avoid picturing how each hold would feel. He doesn’t entirely manage it.

“Small boobs have more sensitive nipples,” Dennis continues. “You can _really_ get a chick screaming if you do her nips right. But -- and maybe I should’ve said this sooner -- you don’t want to go in for the kill too soon. That’ll have them screaming the wrong way. That’ll have them screaming like poor Jenny Gildenhorn probably did.” Dennis dissolves into giggles, pressing his forehead against the back of Charlie’s shoulder for a brief moment before he composes himself. Charlie wills himself not to startle at the sensation.

Dennis sits up and sighs, his hot breath ghosting down the side of Charlie’s neck, causing goosebumps to form. “Alright. Sorry. Uh, where were we?”

“Going slow,” Mac offers.

“Right!” Dennis says, nodding. “Yes. Try drawing little circles, closer and closer to the skin just around the areola, not quite touching but getting close, just keep going closer and closer, real lightly, teasing,” Dennis demonstrates, again only such a short distance from Charlie’s own chest. Charlie swallows again, feels his nipples go hard against the soft material of his shirt.

“What’s an uh-ree-luh?” Mac asks.

“Areola,” Dennis corrects. “It’s the outside part of the nipple.”

“There’s parts?” Mac asks.

“If you look closely, yeah,” Dennis explains. “There’s the outside part, the areola, and the more sensitive inside-y part, which I actually don’t think I know the name of.”

“The pointy part,” Charlie offers.

“It’s not just called the pointy part, though,” Dennis replies. “There’s a word for it.”

Charlie shrugs. “I dunno. That’s what I’ve always called mine.”

“Well that’s… _cute,_ I guess, but that doesn’t really help Mac,” Dennis retorts. He pauses. “Actually, it might!” He grabs hold of the hem of Charlie’s well-worn t-shirt and drags it up to the collarbone on one side. “Yeah, there we go. You see?”

Mac scoots in closer than seems fully necessary. “Oh, yeah,” he says, his breath warm and teasing on the sensitive bud, causing goosebumps to bloom all across Charlie’s skin. “I think I see what you mean.”

“Back up,” Dennis orders. “Jesus. You need glasses or something? But yeah.” With the fingernail of his pointer finger, Dennis traces around the very edge of Charlie’s nipple, only just barely touching but lighting little sparks all through Charlie’s body anyway. “See, the area from right here,” Dennis drags his nail gently across the small space and Charlie’s toes curl of their own accord, “to right here, that’s the areola, and then this…” He pauses, then shrugs, tapping the very peak of Charlie’s nipple with just his fingertip, just barely, not seeming to notice as Charlie’s breath hitches at the sensation. “I dunno. The pointy part, I guess.”

Dennis scoots in closer, pressed against Charlie’s back. One hand holds Charlie’s shirt in place, the other starts very lightly, very slowly rolling Charlie’s nipple between clever fingertips. “Charlie’s nips are pretty much as hard as nips can get right now,” Dennis explains, “but Stacy’s nips may not be this hard when you first get to them. You can tell the difference pretty easy -- y’know, just seeing whether they’re flat against the skin versus…”  He pinches the little bud _very_ firmly between his fingers, Charlie squirms a little. “Well, versus the way Charlie’s are right now, all raised up and hard, you just wanna touch them, right?”

“Yeah,” Mac agrees immediately.

“Yeah,” Dennis nods, swallows. “But if Stacy’s aren’t like that when they’re, y’know, revealed to you, just give ‘em a quick lick. Sorry, Charlie, I’m not licking your nipples, but I’ll…” Dennis sucks a thumb into his mouth for a second and then swipes the wet thumb over Charlie’s nipple. “So you’d just move your tongue like I’m moving my thumb, just back and forth. Or you can swirl it, maybe…” He demonstrates said swirling and Charlie blindly reaches back for something to cling to, ends up clutching Dennis’s jeans just above the knees, gripping the fabric tight in his fingers. “Ooh, there, see? Charlie likes the swirling motion a lot. I bet Stacy will, too.”

“Then, if that’s not enough, you just lean back a little and…” Dennis takes advantage of his height and leans forward over Charlie’s shoulder, his chin sharp against Charlie’s collarbone. He lightly blows a stream of air down over Charlie’s chest, then remarks, “That’ll get ‘em hard for sure. That’s, like, a defense mechanism.”

“Really?” Mac asks.

“Mm-hmm,” Dennis affirms, “Probably from the olden days, like Adam and Eve.”

“Makes sense,” Mac replies, rubbing at his chin like he’s thinking it over real hard as he watches Dennis’s fingers closely. “So that feels really good, huh, Charlie?”

Charlie doesn’t respond, takes it as a rhetorical, but Dennis, with the hint of a tease in his voice, takes it one step further, asking, “Yeah, that feel good? You got a boner, Charlie?”

“Hey, fuck off,” Charlie mutters.

“Nothing to be ashamed of!” Dennis insists smoothly. “Lord knows I’d have one, if our places were switched.”

“Really?” Mac asks, and there’s something about the barely-hidden, lust-filled interest that the concept of Dennis having a boner sparks in Mac’s voice that makes Charlie wanna... he doesn’t even know what he wants to do, really, but he wants to do something. Bite something, maybe. Or someone. Mac, probably, but Dennis is absently drawing his fingers through the sand-colored, soft hair on Charlie’s chest, and it’s ticklish in a way that’s making Dennis seem kind of biteable right now too.

“He doesn’t have a boner,” Charlie informs Mac. “Believe me, I’d know. He’s pressed _right_ the fuck against me.”

“You’re right,” Dennis says, as if Charlie needed the confirmation. “I really think _you_ do, though. In fact I’m almost sure of it.”

He leans in to speak close to Charlie’s ear, softly so only he can hear. “I’m definitely sure Mac does,” Dennis tells him. “He keeps squirming so it’s not pressed against the seam of his pants. Wanna bet he creams his jeans before you do?”

“Whoa!” Charlie yelps, indignant, full speaking volume. “Hey, I’m not gonna…”

“Relax, relax,” Dennis curls an arm around Charlie’s waist, the inside of his wrist warm against Charlie’s bare stomach. His other hand goes to rub soothingly along Charlie’s hip, tracing lightly along the line of the sharp bone there. “Of course you’re not gonna, I was only teasing.”

“Besides,” Dennis continues. “It’s not really relevant whether you do or you don’t. That’s the thing about girls, they don’t have such a blatant indicator of whether you’re doing a good job or not.” No longer held in Dennis’s grip, Charlie’s t-shirt slides down a little, the worn and soft material brushing over sensitive skin. “So you have to just rely on your technique. Speaking of which, Mac, why don’t you come over here?”

“Hm?” Mac raises his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Well,” Dennis says, “I just realized Charlie’s got two nipples, you can copy me on the other one and I can make sure you’ve got my technique down.”

Mac scoots in, looking vaguely uneasy. “You’ll be fine,” Dennis encourages. “Just do what I do. Here, try rolling it.” Dennis demonstrates. Mac’s larger, clumsier fingers find Charlie’s other nipple.

“Just like that, perfect, yeah. You can experiment a little bit with pressure, too. Try doing it real lightly…” Dennis’s grip goes slack, his touch suddenly feather-light. After a moment Mac catches on and does the same, or at least something similar. “Or you can try squeezing a little tighter.” This time Mac catches on quickly and Charlie’s a little overwhelmed by the dual sensations, puffing a sharp breath of air out his nose and then inhaling deeply through his mouth.

“I think that was about to be a moan,” Dennis informs Mac, “Which is a very good sign. I think you’re doing well, Mac.”

“That could just be your doing,” Mac replies modestly.

“Well no, cuz he wasn’t moaning when it was just me,” Dennis retorts. “So it must be you.”

“Probably just the two being worked at the same time, then,” Mac says, using his free hand to gesture at both their hands on Charlie’s chest. “I bet it’s like twice the power, right?”

“Twice the sensation, you mean, compared to just touching the one?” Dennis asks. “Hmm, I’m not sure how to measure that, but no, I don’t think that’s quite the denomination, it’s not quite doubled, not in my experience. Feels better, though, for sure. If nothing else, just to have them matching, have that, uh, sense of completion.”

“Right,” Mac says, like he understands. Charlie gets the feeling he’s not, in fact, understanding the technicalities of any of this, but if nothing else, Mac is a decent visual learner. Dennis switches from rolling Charlie’s nipple between his fingers to pulling lightly, tugging on it, and Mac follows suit without Dennis having to tell him.

“Ooh,” Charlie says without entirely meaning to. Blushes and stammers out a quick, “Sorry. Uh, t-that one, that one’s good. That one felt, feels, uh, feels good.”

Dennis laughs softly, deep in his chest. “He can barely even form words,” Dennis points out, “But you still don’t believe it’s you, huh? Here, then.” He drops his hand, snaking his arm back around Charlie’s waist and instructs Mac, “Let’s see what you’ve learned.”

“R-really?” Mac stutters. “Uh. Alright. Well, I’ll, uh…” Mac tries one of Dennis’s earlier methods, abandoning the little bud entirely and drawing the little circles nearer and nearer to them both. Already having been stimulated, Charlie’s nipples are hyper-aware of Mac’s fingers, desperate for him to resume contact. “Like this?”

Dennis laughs again. “Oh man, look at that face. You’re torturing poor Charlie here a little, but that’s alright, he’ll be fine and you’ve got the right idea. Give him a little contact now, he doesn’t need the tease, he’s gunning for you, he wants your touch, Mac.”

“Oh,” Mac says. “Okay, uh…” He flattens his thumbs against the skin and brushes them lightly, repeatedly over the peak. “Is that good? Does he like that?”

“Well, look at his face, Mac,” Dennis replies. “You tell me.”

Charlie locks eyes with Mac. Mac bites his lip. “Yeah,” Mac says, “I think he does.” He laughs, that little half-laugh he does when he’s feeling awkward. “You look horny as shit, dude.”

“So do you,” Charlie fires back, because he does, his cheeks are all flushed and his hair’s stuck to his sweaty forehead, pupils all blown to shit and more to the point now that he’s changed positions and scooted closer, Charlie can definitely see what Dennis was talking about, the telltale curve straining against the zipper of his jeans. Charlie could reach out and touch it, if he wanted to. He’s a little concerned with how much he really wants to, wants to feel it pushing into his palm through the denim, but he abstains.

“You both do,” Dennis laughs. “It’s a very normal reaction, it’s a very sexual thing we’re talking about, having a woman’s naked breasts in front of you and learning the proper way to manipulate them for her enjoyment. I’d be worried if you weren’t at least a _little_ turned on.”

Charlie notices that Dennis has backed off from him a little, no longer pressed to his back but allowing a small bit of space between the two of them. Slowly, not wanting to displace Mac or startle Dennis into moving, Charlie shifts onto his knees and eases that bit of space out of existence.

“I knew it!” Charlie can’t help but cry. “You’ve got a fucking boner!”

“Really?” Mac asks, and there’s that spark of interest again that Charlie really isn’t sure what to do with.

“Only natural,” Dennis quips again, and to Charlie’s surprise doesn’t back off again but stays there, erection pressed against the small of Charlie’s back, his arm even tightening around Charlie’s waist to keep him there.

“Besides,” Dennis says, something dangerous glittering in his voice, “you know what they say about pots and kettles.” He takes advantage of Charlie’s new pose by sliding a hand into the space between Charlie’s knees, and then traces the line of Charlie’s admittedly very much erect cock through his jeans. Something about the touch coming from behind and beneath makes it seem ten times dirtier. Charlie stifles another moan.

“They both can cook things?” Mac offers, seemingly oblivious to what Dennis is doing to Charlie, too focused on his nipples to glance far enough down.

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Dennis replies smoothly.  Feeling a little weak, Charlie forces himself to stay up on his knees. If he collapses, he’ll have Dennis’s hand and wrist pressed right up against, well, pretty much everywhere he’s sensitive. As it is now, Dennis is not at all shy about feeling him up, clever fingers trailing all along the sensitive underside of his cock.

“He looks like he’s about to nut,” Mac remarks. “Should I, uh, should I stop?”

“That’s up to Charlie,” Dennis remarks. “You want this to stop, Charlie?”

Charlie takes a deep breath through his nose. “Nah, keep going,” he urges. “You’re doing a really good job, Mac.”

Dennis chuckles darkly in his ear. “You’re a good friend, Charlie,” he mutters so only he can hear. “How about I get you off and we act like it was all him?”

“Nnn,” Charlie says. It was maybe going to be a ‘no’, but Dennis finds the head of Charlie’s cock and starts thumbing along the ridge, right where the head meets the shaft. His toes curl in his shoes and his head falls back, tipping back against Dennis’s chest.  
  
“Swirling, right?” Mac asks, and Charlie only has a split second to wonder what the fuck that’s supposed to mean before there’s a warm, wet mouth engulfing his nipple and he’s at a complete loss for both thought and words.

“Holy shit,” Dennis breathes. “Yeah, Mac, right around the hard little nub you feel with your tongue. You can’t see it anymore, obviously, but you can feel it with your tongue, right?” Charlie lets out a soft little cry he can’t quite hold in as Dennis drags two fingers along the very tip of his erection. “I can’t see what you’re doing, but that noise Charlie just made makes me think you’ve got it right. Charlie’s kinda quiet, by the way -- girls make a bit more sound. Ooh, blow on it, then lick the other one.”

Mac leans back and lightly breathes a cool puff of air onto over-sensitive wet skin. Charlie’s heart thumps in his chest. Mac presses his thumb against the bud, rubbing none-too-gently back and forth as he leans forward and lathes his tongue slowly, hotly, against the other one. Dennis doesn’t even have to cheat this time, Charlie squirms and whimpers because of Mac alone.

“Fuck,” Charlie mutters, grinding slightly against Dennis’s hand. “Mac, I’m gonna…”

Mac leans back and asks, “You’re sure this is alright, man?”

“Yes,” Dennis answers for him. “He’s fine. Come on, Mac. What are you gonna do? Your date’s wet for you, man. You got her bra on the floor of your car, tits in your face and she’s moaning your name in the prettiest voice you’ve ever heard.” Dennis lets out an over-the-top breathy moan and goes into a falsetto. _“Oh, Mac. Yes, Mac. Mac, Mac, Mac!”_

Mac ducks his head and kisses him. Not Dennis, to shut him up, but Charlie, for reasons Charlie can’t quite wrap his head around beyond Dennis goading him into it but that’s okay, cuz holy _fuck_ is Mac an enthusiastic kisser. This is the way people kiss in movies, Charlie thinks. He brings a dazed hand up to the back of Mac’s head, half to keep him there, half to assure him he’s allowed to stay.

Dennis stays silent, drops the arm around Charlie’s waist to start rubbing his thumb along the sharp curve of Charlie’s hip again, gently and slowly like Charlie’s a startled animal that needs soothing. His other hand doesn’t let up, still tracing lightly along Charlie’s cock through his pants, not quite jerking him off but just tracing the line of it, like he’s trying to ascertain precisely where the hard bulge of it is in his jeans. The light ticklish feeling of it is worse than if Dennis just grabbed him and got him off properly, making him ache for it more, long for the release.

Still kissing him hungrily, Mac pinches both of Charlie nipples and pulls gently, twisting slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to send a sharp pang right down to his dick, right down to where Dennis is rubbing at that super-sensitive ridge right along the head of it. Mac whimpers into Charlie’s mouth, Charlie can see him pressing a hand against his own hard cock and that’s it, that’s it, Charlie can’t hold on any longer.

“Ohhh fuck,” Charlie moans, leaning away from Mac’s mouth and he’s moaning so loud, he knows it’s probably _too_ loud but he can’t hold it in, can’t hold anything back, just pushing his hips against Dennis’s hand with his head thrown back against Dennis’s collarbone. He can still feel Dennis’s hard cock, still pressed tight against his back, and he makes a point to squirm right against him. White light flashes behind his eyelids and all of his skin feels electrified and hot.

Boneless and shaking and trying to catch his breath, Charlie only just barely manages to crack an annoyed eye open when Dennis remarks, “Wow! See if you can get Stacy Corvelli to do _that!”_

//

It turns out that Stacy Corvelli  _didn’t_ ask Mac out, by the way. She clears up the confusion in the cafeteria Monday, when Dennis talks Mac into getting up the nerve to actually go ask when the fuck their date is.

“I’m awful sorry for the confusion,” Stacy says, sweet and genuine and seeming pretty confused herself. “But I was tryin’ to ask out your friend there, the short one.”

“Oh, Charlie?” Mac remarks. “You were trying to ask out Charlie?”

“Yeah,” Stacy replies. “I was tryin’ to ask him out, not you. Damn, I’m real sorry though, honest. Are you okay?”

Mac can’t stop staring at her chest, even though he doesn’t really want to. He sees the shape of her boobs through her shirt, a pale blue tank top, and while they look pretty nice, he doesn’t feel like he’s missing out on a whole lot knowing he’s not going to get to touch them. “Yeah,” Mac assures her. “I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“We could still hang out sometime,” she offers weakly, “if you had your hopes up for it.”

“No,” Mac insists. “That’s alright. I don’t really want to hang out with you.”

“Alright,” Stacy shrugs. “Hey, uh, will you still give your friend Charlie my number though, if it’s not too much to ask? He is _so_ cute.”

Mac glances over at Charlie, sitting with Dennis halfway across the cafeteria and trying to fit an entire apple into his mouth as Dennis eggs him on “Yeah,” Mac agrees as though he’s just thought of it, pretending the thought had never before occurred to him before Stacy said it. “I guess he sort of is.”

//

 _"And you don't have to say 'I love you too'_  
_That's not what I want to hear from you_  
_Are you watching me? Am I different or am I the same?"_  

**Author's Note:**

> title and the lyrics at the beginning and end of the fic all come from "self-taught learner" by lissy trullie
> 
> P L E A S E leave a comment if you read this, just let me know literally any thoughts you had at all whatsoever, it's absolutely the biggest motivation for me to write more and I also read your kind words on days I'm feel blue! <3
> 
> (find me on tumblr: psychedelic-iridescent.tumblr.com)


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